FAKE DATING WITH BENEFITS MY BILLIONAIRE BOSS (Ophelia Corrigan) novel Chapter 97

CHAPTER 97

AMIE

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Gray Monday light in New York always managed to make me feel more exhausted than I already was.

In the bathroom, I turned makeup into armor.

Foundation. Concealer. Powder.

The bruise on my cheek still showed through all of it, dark at the center, bleeding out toward the edges like a stain I couldn’t hide.

Still, I kept going.

Another layer. Then another.

By the time I was done, the bruise had faded into nothing more than a pale shadow beneath my skin.

In the elevator, I glanced up without thinking and caught my reflection in the mirror.

I looked away immediately.

I didn’t want to stare long enough to see how tired I really looked.

The office was a blur. The hum of computers, the click of heels on marble, the smell of strong coffee hanging in the air. I buried myself in paperwork, reviewing clauses until the words turned into incomprehensible scribbles.

Around noon, my desk phone rang. It was Kelly, Simon’s assistant.

“Ms. Collins, Mr. Hart would like to see you in his office. He said it’s important.”

My stomach clenched. “Of course. I’m on my way.”

I hung up and took a deep breath. I grabbed my bag and, in a quick, furtive movement, glanced around to make sure no one was watching. My hand slipped inside, finding the small compact. With my pinky, I dabbed a little extra on my bruised cheek. Then I put it away and walked upstairs.

His office door was open. Simon sat at his desk, flawless in a navy suit, his white shirt perfectly pressed. Today he didn’t look like a billionaire who showed up in gossip columns; he looked like Manhattan’s 1 sharpest CEO, focused and razor-edged. When he looked up from his tablet, he was already watching me.

“Morning, Collins. Close the door, please.”

I shut the door behind me and stood in front of his desk. “Morning.”

He leaned back in his chair, twirling a pen between his fingers. “So? How was your day with your friend yesterday?” The question came out casual, but his blue eyes never left my face.

“It was fine,” I lied, my voice flatter than I intended. “We just relaxed. Long week.”

“Too much work, Jamie,” he said, a faint smile on his lips. “You need to slow down.” He paused, his gaze

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drifting over my face in a way that made me uncomfortable.

leared my throat. “What did you need? I’ve got a lot on my plate.”

55 valien

“Ah, right, of course.” He tossed the pen onto the desk. “Actually, I need you to come with me on a business trip.”

My heart skipped. “A trip?”

“Yeah.” He leaned forward. “Hawaii. Friday. I’ve got a meeting with a group of investors in Honolulu. It’s big deal, and they’re extremely formal. I need my head of legal by my side to review the final contracts and make sure everything’s perfect.”

“Simon, that’s incredibly short notice. I’ve got a stack of documents waiting for me.”

“That’s exactly why you’re the head of legal. You’ll handle it.” He stood, circling the desk toward me. “You’re the most competent employee in this office. And the deal’s valued in the nine figures. I can’t go alone.”

He stopped a few feet away, and I felt the heat coming off him, the familiar scent of his cologne. My heart started pounding faster.

“What’s wrong?” he asked, his voice lower. “You’re pale.”

“I’m fine,” I said, looking away. “Just tired.”

He took another step, and now he was close enough that I could count the worry lines on his forehead. He raised his hand, his fingers grazing my chin, tilting my face up. His eyes swept over my face, and I saw the exact moment confusion shifted into something darker, harder.

“Did you put on makeup today?” His voice was a low growl.

“What? I wear makeup every day, Simon. You’ve never noticed?” My answer came out as a nervous, hollow laugh.

“But you used more today,” he said, his voice dropping even lower. His thumb, rough, slid across my cheek, and the friction of his touch wiped away the layer of powder I’d just applied. I flinched, an involuntary sound of pain escaping my lips.

Simon’s eyes went wide. He stared at his own thumb, now smeared with makeup, then back at my face, where the bruise was surfacing again.

“Who did this to you?” His voice was a low, dangerous thunder.

“No one,” I whispered, stepping back, but he didn’t let me go. “I fell.”

“Jamie.” He said my name like a warning, his jaw locked. “Don’t lie to me.”

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